


Behind Closed Doors

by GemmaRose



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Body Modification, Functionist Universe (Transformers), M/M, Science Experiments, Secrets, Spies & Secret Agents
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-01
Updated: 2019-01-01
Packaged: 2019-10-02 08:55:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17261294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GemmaRose/pseuds/GemmaRose
Summary: In Which Mesothulas has an experimental procedure to try out, Soundwave wants something to do that's more than just being a prop in Shockwave's lab, and Prowl is having one hell of a day.Written forPuffas part of theSecret Solenoidgift exchange.





	Behind Closed Doors

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ckret2](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ckret2/gifts).



> This is set in my very specific version of the Functionist Universe, where the deportation of Cold Constructed mechs was actually a harvesting of their sparks, which the Council used to fake having found a hotspot after the whole incident with Rung and the moon. Consequentially, all CC characters were onlined after that happened, so this Prowl is much more like pre-war Prowl who never wanted to be as cynical as Orion than the machiavellian spymaster we all know and love.

_“It's perfectly safe, Darling.”_

Mesothulas's words rang in his audials as Prowl stared at the heavy, sealed doors of his scientist's lab. Perfectly safe his aft, no manner of self-experimentation was even remotely safe, especially not when it was Mesothulas doing the experimenting. He loved the mech, primus damn him, but Mesothulas was nearly as reckless as that new mech who'd transferred in from Tesk. Prowl made a mental note to find an excuse to speak with that mech sometime this stellar cycle, or at least his personal guard. It never hurt to keep tabs on the mechs in the facility, especially when probably a quarter of them could potentially blow up half the buildings in the compound with an experiment gone wrong. He stared at the sealed doors for a few kliks more, weighing the pros and cons of standing guard outside the door for as long as it took Mesothulas to finish his project. Considering how deep they were in the facility, the number of informants he had who were standing guard closer to the perimeter, and the projected timeframe for said project, heading down towards where the new mech from Tesk was setting up sounded like a much better use of his time. It wasn't like Mesothulas had ordered him to stand guard or anything.

The thought made his tanks churn uneasily, and Prowl frowned as he started down the hallway. He considered the scientists who made their assigned guards keep watch over the lab door paranoid, the locks on each lab were sophisticated and the facility as a whole quite safe, but there was no denying the possibility that one mega-cycle Mesothulas might ask Prowl to do just that. Sure he would dress it up in pretty words and compliments, and Prowl had no doubt he would do as asked because Mesothulas knew how to get under his plating like no other in all the best ways, but standing guard at the door while his scientist worked... he didn't like to think of what it meant for Mesothulas's mental state. The fact that he didn't want to, of course, had no bearing on the fact that he had an obligation to keep both the physical and mental health of his scientist in mind, and when looked at with a critical optic there was a clear trend. Ever since they'd had to send Ostaros away for his own safety, Mesothulas had been deteriorating. He was growing erratic, almost careless, and Prowl's tacnet oh so helpfully supplied a calculation for how much longer he'd be a viable asset for the council. Scientists had been deemed surplus to requirements before, and despite what Mesothulas muttered to himself sometimes Prowl knew the mech would never join with the resistance cell Ostaros had set up under his new designation.

His spark lurched at the thought of the alternative though, and he shook his helm slightly. No, Mesothulas's deactivation was an unacceptable outcome. That was part of the point of keeping tabs on the other scientists here, if there were rumours that Mesothulas was about to be let go from the facility, more audials meant a greater chance of Prowl hearing about it with enough forewarning to make a proper contingency plan. What exactly that would be, well, there were too many variables to even begin planning it with the amount of information he had but he was cautiously hopeful about the AVL. If he could just get a mech in their ranks, or at least in networking distance of them…

Lost in his thoughts, Prowl only noticed the other mech approaching when he walked straight into him. He got an impression of blue and Big before his gyro failed and both of them went crashing to the ground. “Sorry.” he scrambled back to his feet, letting embarrassment wash briefly through his field. Unprofessional, sloppy, he had to improve his own multitasking ability if he wanted to be able to keep protecting Mesothulas after they left the facility. “Are you hurt?” he asked, offering the mech a hand up and giving him a quick look over. He was moderately attractive, all things considered. A tasteful blue and white paintjob, dark crystal or transparesteel for his chestplate with a narrow trim of metallic gold, a red visor and white facemask that made up a perfect poker face, and straight clean lines of armour that produced a blocky but well proportioned figure. He was very clean too, immaculate even, Prowl could think of few mechs in the facility who kept themselves so well and internally raised his estimation of the mech.

“Condition: uninjured. Assistance: unneeded.”

“Have we met?” Prowl asked as the mech stood up, though he was sure they hadn't. He'd have remembered a mech with a voice and frame like that.

“Negative.” the mech's flat, slightly distorted voice said as he shook his head. “Designation: Soundwave.” he pressed a hand to the smooth pane of his chestplate, which Prowl swore he could glimpse a pattern behind. He tore his optics from Soundwave's chest too quickly to be sure though, and gave a polite smile, tacnet informing him that the probability of this Soundwave attacking him was negligible and he was likely open to conversation. Normally Prowl hated being forced to engage in idle chitchat, but a quick check of his internal chronometer showed that he had more than enough time to kill some making small talk with this Soundwave mech. There were certainly worse conversational partners in this facility.

“Prowl.” he introduced himself, holding out a hand. Soundwave's grip was firm, and Prowl noted that unless the sensors in his hand needed recalibration they were exerting the exact same amount of force on each other. Interesting.

“Soundwave: has heard of Prowl. Information: did not include frame specifications.” Soundwave's helm tilted slightly, and Prowl ruffled his plating slightly. He rather liked this Soundwave mech already. The visor hid his optics from view, he could easily have checked Prowl out without him being the wiser, but he didn't.

“What sort of things did you hear, then?” he asked, and Soundwave's helm tilted slightly. Prowl got the uncomfortable feeling he was being scrutinised, and shifted to stand straighter.

“Personality: purported to be abrasive. Function: guard.”

Prowl couldn't help the prickle of annoyance that flashed through his field at that, but at least Soundwave had the decency not to mention it.

“Reported data: contradictory to current data. Results: inconclusive.”

Well, _that_ was certainly interesting. “You don't have to pretend to like me.” Prowl said, keeping his tone as close to neutral as he could.

“Soundwave: avoids inaccuracies.” Soundwave said, and even with his flat tone and close-furled field Prowl got an impression of disdain, as if Soundwave was offended Prowl had assumed he was simply being polite. Oh, he definitely liked this mech. And an extra set of audials never hurt, especially a set attached to a fine mech who would probably genuinely believe Prowl wanted to spend time with him for purely social purposes.

“Well, in that case thank you.” Prowl put on a small smile. Time to add another mech to his roster. If he could move this along quickly, perhaps he'd have time to go check on those twinbound menaces as well as the new arrivals from Tesk. Honestly, he would've loved to know how many favours it cost Shockwave to get a flier with a name like _WarRage_ nigh-unlimited access to dangerous chemicals with only his own identical twin for oversight, and that was before he even touched on the political leanings of the twins.

“Soundwave: has an offer for Prowl.” the mech said, and Prowl snapped his attention back to the present. Recruit now, check on idiot scientists later. He flickered his field against Soundwave's in a brush of polite interest, and the mech lifted a hand to rest on hic chestplate. “Soundwave: offers services as spy.”

Prowl clamped down on his autonomic reactions immediately, throwing a patently fake smile on his face as he forced an awkward laugh. “What makes you think I need one of those?” he asked, tacnet frantically churning through all the ways Soundwave could've found out about his little off-the-books operation. If one of his informants had blabbed, he would need to know who else might've heard about it. If he'd been careless enough to be found out by the first mech who actually bothered to look, then he'd been sloppier than he realized. Worst case scenario, _Mesothulas_ could be compromised or otherwise in danger. His spark chamber suddenly felt too small, and he had to force himself to not turn and start back towards his lover's lab right that nano-klik. There was no proof that Mesothulas was in danger, the possibility was a remote chance that had so low a probability as to be negligible, but logic had no bearing on the way his spark spun too fast in its casing, dumping energy into his lines, trying to activate protocols that wanted him to Protect.

“Soundwave: has observed Skids of Nova Cronum.”

Damn, _Skids_. Shockwave's theoretician/lab assistant was one of his more overt agents, he'd trusted the mech to be careful but if Soundwave had noticed then others could have as well. He'd have to arrange a meeting with the mech, and soon. For the moment, though, he had to keep smiling and lie through his denta. Convince Soundwave he was mistaken, excuse himself from the conversation, and return to Mesothulas's lab to ensure his safety. “Skids is a friend of mine.” he assured the blue mech, already mentally drafting a comm to send Skids that wouldn't throw up any flags in the system. “I'm not sure where you got an idea that he's giving me any sort of _services_ but-”

“Soundwave: has spoken to Skids regarding arrangement with Prowl and Mesothulas.”

“I think you must have misunderstood.” Prowl's smile felt strained, and he was sure it looked awful. He'd never been good at faking pleasantries, and it was getting harder to ignore the too-fast spin of his spark or the way old, base code was screaming at him to return to Mesothulas's lab and make sure he was safe. “My scientist may have an arrangement with Skids, but he and I are merely acquaintances.”

Soundwave's shoulders shook slightly, and his field and two others unfurled to brush against Prowl's with amusement. _Amusement_. His tacnet kicked into overdrive trying to analyse not only where the two less disciplined fields _came from_ but also what could cause such a reaction in a conversation as layered with unspoken threats as this one, and he nearly turned to head back to Mesothulas's lab as his spark fairly screamed against its casing.

“Soundwave: can hear thoughts.”

Prowl's mouth fell open, his processor screeching to a halt. No fragging way. That had to be a lie, and an outrageous one at that.

“Soundwave: being 100% honest. Status: outlier.”

Prowl suck a ventilation in through his denta. That was a _dangerous_ thing to disclose, especially in the hallways where anyone could listen in. Unless- “You're one of Shockwave's, aren't you.” he said as the pieces fell into place. Unusually clean and polished, close enough to Skids to know of his association with Prowl, and an outlier? Skids was far from the only outlier under Shockwave's protection, and the eccentric ex-Senator insisted all his assistants keep themselves to his personal standards of cleanliness. Soundwave had nothing to lose by divulging his outlier status, it was common knowledge to anyone who saw which scientist he worked for. Prowl made a mental note to go over the profiles of all Shockwave's outlier assistants later, it was unacceptable that he'd not known Soundwave on sight.

“Soundwave's offer: acceptable?” the mech prodded, and Prowl shuttered his optics for a few nano-kliks as he drew a deep in-vent.

“We should meet again to discuss details.” he said as levelly as he could, drawing up his callendar to check for when Mesothulas would likely want him out of the lab. “Next deca-cycle?” he suggested, and Soundwave gave a shallow nod.

“Shockwave's lab: acceptable location?” Soundwave suggested, and Prowl paused to consider it. The chance to see inside another scientist's lab was rare, and those opportunities were usually short-lived.

“Yes, it’s acceptable.” he said, and got another flicker of amusement from two fields that seemed to originate from Soundwave. Neither field belonged to the blue mech, though. Prowl attached a note to the tentative meeting time to ask about that. “I’ll leave you to yourself.” he nodded, and made note of the flickers of amusement from not only Soundwave but _five_ other fields. He definitely had to get the story on that.

“I’m certain that Mesothulas is unharmed.” Soundwave said as Prowl turned to leave, and he couldn’t help the way his doorwings stiffened to stand straight out from his back. Okay, that was damn unnerving. Soundwave said nothing else though, and when Prowl dialed up his audials he heard footsteps retreating. Only once they’d faded to silence did he allow himself to speed up his pace, until he was moving at his maximum speed without running or transforming, both of which were prohibited in the halls and honestly not worth the trouble breaking them would eventually bring. Having a reputation as a rule-follower was quite handy when he did have to subvert, bend, loophole, or outright break the rules between himself and his goal.

Walking with purpose, it took him far less time to return to Mesothulas’s lab than it had to reach where he’d run into Soundwave. There was still a whole cycle until Mesothulas had projected he’d finish the experiment, but he should have at least finished the installation by now. Prowl could just, check in the lab and confirm Mesothulas’s continued functioning, then stand guard outside until Mesothulas was done. The door opened at a quick scan of his systems, and Prowl took a step inside so it could shut behind him while he glanced around. Mesothulas typically worked over in that corner, but-

Prowl’s weapons onlined before he fully registered that the hulking frame in the corner wasn’t the scientist he knew and loved. The mech stood at least a helm taller than him, heavily armoured, with strange kibble that stuck out at odd angles. “Don’t move.” he said, and the stranger startled.

“Prowl!”

His weapons hummed as they spooled up to full charge, targeting system picking out the intruder’s weak spots. “I said don’t move.” he snapped, taking a step forwards. His optics flicked side to side, and there were no signs of a struggle but also no signs of his scientist. “Where is Mesothulas?” he demanded, leveling his most powerful weapon at the intruder’s chest over his spark and letting his other hand drift to point at the mech’s knee. “What have you done with him?”

“Nothing, Prowl, I promise.” the intruder’s strange not-quite-facemask shifted as he smiled, an action that threw Prowl’s tacnet into a frenzy trying to analyse his opponent’s motives. He considered comming for backup, then dismissed the thought. If the mech had managed to get in here without tripping any alarms, which he must have since there weren’t any general facility guards present, then Prowl would have to explain the situation to Security. Explaining the situation would distract him, and a general alarm would grant more mechs access to the lab than he was even close to comfortable with. No, whatever happened here he had to handle it personally and then call Security after to get answers out of this strange mech.

“Where is he?” Prowl layered his glyphs with threat as heavily as he could, the deep-rooted protocols which had been woken by his earlier conversation now warring with his tacnet for primary focus. His very function was to guard, to _protect_ , and Mesothulas was so much more than just the latest mech he’d been assigned to. Mesothulas was the most brilliant mech he’d even known, the first to treat him as a mech of equal intelligence instead of a dumb grunt of a guard, the single point of irrationality Prowl allowed himself. In another life, they might've even been conjunx.

“Prowl, I’m ri-”

“ **Where is he?** ” he bellowed, taking another step forward. “Where is Mesothulas?”

An internal comm message popped up on his HUD a nano-klik after he asked, the glyphs simple and the sub-glyphs distinctly _Mesothulas_. ::I’m unhurt, Darling.::

He didn’t lower his weapons, or change his posture at all, but the near-painful clench of his spark chamber eased. “Tell me what you’ve done with him.” he ordered, his voice much more level now that his primary concern had been addressed. The intruder _chuckled_ , of all things, and looked aside. Towards the part of the lab where Mesothulas had been setting up the experiment to perform on himself when Prowl left. Prowl’s optics flicked over to it, and his spark leapt into his intake at the sight of Mesothulas’s helm sitting on the workbench.

“I was hoping to reveal it in a more... controlled manner.”

“Mesothulas?” his guns dipped even as the not-stranger came closer, field reaching out to be met by an equally extended field that he knew as well as he knew his own frame. As well as he’d known Mesothulas’s frame just this morning.

“Not anymore, darling.” unfamiliar hands cupped his helm as Mesothulas’s field enveloped him, his processor stalling out as his tacnet cancelled more contingency plans than he’d consciously acknowledged. “It worked.”

“What-” Prowl reset his vocaliser, stowing his guns back in subspace. “What should I call you, if not Mesothulas?”

“Hmm, Master is always appropriate.” his optics shone playfully as Prowl gave him a flat look. “But I think, Tera-rantulas.”

“After the alt-mode?” he lifted a hand to caress a curved piece of kibble decorated with slender tapered tubes, designed after the sensory bristles of one of Cybertron’s most deadly arachnids. He wondered absently if ~~Mesothulas~~ Tera-rantulas had synthesised any of the terabyte-sized virus the arachnid was known for. That thought was derailed when Prowl’s fingers traced up one of the tubes and elicited a full-frame shudder. He shelved the question for later.

“Do you like it?” Tera-rantulas’s hands shifted to Prowl’s shoulders as he straightened up, pulling the sensor tube from his fingers, and Prowl had to tilt his helm back to keep optic contact. It was disorienting, to have the slightly smaller scientist he’d worked with for dozens of meta-cycles and loved for nearly half that time suddenly be both taller and broader than him. Disorienting, but also pleasing on several levels, not the least of which being that the heavier armour, the enhanced senses, and the increased size all would make Tera-rantulas harder to bring down in the event of an attack.

“Hmm, I’m not sure yet.” he admitted, reaching up to stroke the sensor tube again and watching how Tera-rantulas shuddered, optic shutters fluttering. “How much of the testing have you completed?”

“Most of it.” Tera-rantulas’s field was bright against his, full of pride and joy as it always was after he successfully completed a project, especially one that Prowl had suggested to him. “All systems are integrated, and major motor functions have been thoroughly tested.”

“What about fine control and sensory input?” he asked, and Tera-rantulas’s field flickered with interest where it pressed against his own.

“I was just getting to those.” Tera-rantulas’s hands travelled down the front of Prowl’s chestplate, fingers teasing around the edge of his headlights. “Would you like to help?”

Prowl didn’t bother trying to stop his cooling fans clicking on. “You know I’ll never say no to helping you test things.”

“Well then, shall we take this somewhere more... private?” Tera-rantulas stepped back, offering Prowl a hand.

“Let’s.”


End file.
